


Do You Remember How We Got Here?

by CricketBones



Category: One Piece
Genre: A Retelling of Brooks Story basically, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Anxiety Disorder, Brook needs some hugs, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Guilt, Mental Instability, Modern AU, Past Relationship(s), Strawhats being Strawhats, Survivor Guilt, brooks so gay, but a twist!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-14 00:08:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29037624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CricketBones/pseuds/CricketBones
Summary: Brook and Luffy reminisce about their past together, and the first time the Strawhats ever met the musician, however sometimes when you look too deep into your memories, you remember just a bit more then you first expected..
Relationships: Brook & Monkey D. Luffy, Brook & Mugiwara Kaizoku | Strawhat Pirates, Brook/Calico Yorki
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	1. How Did We Get Here?

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! This is a finished fic, but I will take any considerations to heart! I can change grammar and some plot points left if desired, just hit me up!  
> Please enjoy!

“Do you remember where we were when we first met, Brook?”

The question popped up like a similar ripple among a quiet lake, a bubble that shouldn’t have accured at such a place. This change startled the man in question from his sitting position. His head lifted, the man's gaze hidden behind the familiar thick lenses but even without them, anyone can see he’s a bit shocked by the abrupt remark. 

“Goodness, what made you think of that, Luffy-San?”

Luffy, seemingly not batting an eye at Brook’s dismay, shrugged, leaning another arm over his head, over the couch. He always was quite flexible.  
“Dunno. Just thinkin’”

Brook hadn’t thought of that day in a while, surprisingly to himself. Normally his mind is rushing a mile a minute, head full of the day’s beginnings, middles and ends, sometimes notes of the city, the sound of those around him in a melody; however some days are just the lone note of a songbird, dragging itself out into a sorrowful anacrusis. Sometimes thoughts, or rather, the flashes like that of a burning film roll, sharp and dramatic come up, but never for enough time for the mind to recognize them as anything more than just that; a flash.  
His days since he met Luffy have not been filled with a thought about that day since, no. He can honestly say he hasn’t been this happy in ages- well, more like years.  
It had been three years now with the man wearing the Straw Hat, and he honestly had not thought of that day, the beautiful day of their meeting since.

Brook chalked it up to his brain protecting him from anything BEFORE then, any memory that would hinder his enjoyment of his new found friends, no, family. His new found love of life.  
Why spoil the soul's joyful notes with that of a sour? No, his brain simply spared him that pain.

“Do you remember? You ARE old. ARE YOU GETTING SENILE???”  
Luffy gasps a bit, mouth agape like a fish would, wide as ever, eyes wide with a mind buzzing. Peering at him upside down at that strange an angle makes him look even more childish than his normal demeanor.  
Brook simply sighs, shaking his head and removing his glasses for a quick cleaning while he thinks for a response.

“No, no, I do quite remember our time, however it was just such a long time ago... let’s see,” Brook, running his hand through his Afro, switches the support to his other arm, almost drawing a blank if his mind would allow it. He did remember it, how could he not? You cannot simply forget the day your life changed for such a positive turn, and into such a light you never thought possible.


	2. How Did We Find You?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is basically a retelling of the modern version of Thriller Barks encounter.

“YOU CANNOT JUST RUN INTO THESE THINGS!! YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT WE COULD RUN INTO!”

“Y-YEAH! LIKE- GHOSTS! OR WORSE, DEAD PEOPLE!”

“Those are the same thing, stupid!”

“YOU’RE STUPID!”

“BOTH OF YOU.”  
The orange haired woman snapped, finally, behind her, hitting the two loud mouthed ‘children’ across the heads, causing an echoing smack into the foggy night air. The older of the two, a black curly headed man, just sighs, while the other one, the smaller, the smallest of the whole group of misfits, just whimpers.

“You shouldn’t be so harsh on them..”

“YOU GOT US HERE IN THE FIRST PLACE!! YOU AND YOUR CAPTAIN.”

“He’s all of ours.”

“BUT YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO WATCH HIM.”

The mint-haired man just offers her a roll of his eyes, hands clenching on his arms; crossed. His eyes drift back to the captain in question, who is too busy marching alongside the newest recruit of their gang.

Gang. Would you even call it that?

It’s… grown to be something more like a crew, a group of namaka as Luffy calls it.  
Not something anyone here, not Zoro, nor any other thought they would have; a new found, misfit family.  
The namaka, a created family of broken members from all over the land, and sea.

How strange life is.

The newest member throws a arm around his new found leader, his friend, however this cannot help but cause the co-leader to bristle. Hands tightening on his skin, leaving crescent marks along the length of his forearm, brows furrowing, tightening into another active sign of his distrust of the man.  
Dark brown eyes keep this behavior in mind, her lashes shading her glare, however it doesn’t soften the feeling of being watched. Green hair standing up, Zoro glances over, however her head is back forward, mind putting each simple piece together.  
Maybe he’s just jealous, maybe just paranoid.

Either way, it will not last long. If anyone here would be disloyal, it wouldn’t ever be Zoro. If anyone here was disloyal, he wouldn’t let them even close.   
Zoro is Luffy's shadow, and everyone here knows it. Even Franky, as new as he is. You can practically feel those sharp eyes on you, on everyone. However he is both alert, but calm. Zoro knows these men, and women, and these people know him. Trust is what this family is built on, and he never should have to worry about such things, however it’s human nature to do so.  
It’s Zoro's nature to trust Luffy, yet protecting him sometimes shadows his thoughts, and Luffy's leadership sometimes can even be overshadowed with Zoro's teeth of justice.   
Ussop has felt them more than anyone here recently, and the blood of their companion spattered by that tiger’s loyalty now is mentally ingrained in the rest of the crew.

Those brown eyes cannot help but glance back at the man in question, just sighing and smiling at the thought of such a tiger being jealous of such a foolish little monkey's attention.

“OI! ZORO! Do you think we will be in here much longer?”  
Luffy's head whips around, arms hanging off the massive left bicep of Franky, their now crew mate. He doesn’t seem to mind, maybe he can’t even feel it. His smile however speaks of a different feeling  
“I-“ Zoro cannot even get in a word before his shoulders are gripped onto and pushed apon with such a rapid force that he cannot help but almost stumble downward. 

“DON’T TRUST ZORO WITH THE DIRECTIONS, LUFFY!” shouts Usopp, over the now plain annoyed man's right shoulder, bouncing up to project himself higher, all the while using Zoro as said projection point.

“USOPP!” 

“Oh! Heh, no offense Zoro!” Usopp quickly smiles, letting go of him and waving his hands in front of him in a somewhat strange manner of some kind of apology. Zoro just sighs, straightening his back up again, shoulders raised.

“Why did we even go out here again!?” Chopper pipes up, his hands still over his head, both from fear and from a bit of pain from earlier. He’s holding onto the sides of his hat, tugging it downwards in an attempt to cover his head fully.

“Because it’s COOL.”

“You know what’s NOT cool? BEING KILLED.”  
Robin glances Usopp, then her captain, smile beginning to appear on her sharp features.

“Don’t be so sure Usopp...we wouldn’t stay dead for long.”  
Franky, grinning ear to ear remarks to the trembling man behind him as well.  
“Yeah! This place isn’t called The Devil's Triangle for nothing’! People say that all these abandoned buildings, and whole neighborhood blocks are HAUNTED.” 

Usopp cannot even muster up a false grin, any sign of bravery. He just stands, now rooted on spot alongside his trembling friend Chopper.

“I hope we see some!!”

“I DON’T.”

“Ah. Captain, don’t be so sure..I’ve heard people never leave this part of town, from either local violence or otherworldly terror.” Franky warns, arm shifting to his side. Luffy lets go of said arm, and begins a quicker phase forward, his own arms swinging energetically at his sides.

“LUFFY, NO WAIT!” Sanji finally steps in, attempting to grasp his friend's arm before something stops him dead in his tracks.   
It stopped everyone in their tracks, frozen with a new range of emotions to flood their senses.  
At first it must have been inaudible, however now that the volume has risen above the humid blanket of fog, it’s unmistakably present; a voice.  
A whole string of notes arranged in a haunting melody that cascades over the wave of fog itself, straight into the group's range.

“Who the hell is that..!?-“ Sanji practically mouths, his whisper so quiet that if not focused on him, you would most likely not even comprehend it.

“UP THERE”   
Ussops screech rips the quiet, above Sanji, but beside the haunting tune. His shaking hand points upward, up to the top of the nearby decrepit husk of a low-roofed building. It must have been an apartment complex at one point, due to the shape, and left over materials of someone's life.  
There, on top of the building, is what appears at a glance as just another rotting board, or piece of garbage left behind from some unknown past, however the more it is stared at, the more its shape seems to play with the imagination. With little to no effort, the shape of a person is disterned, except for a few little details that just make it seem all the more disconcerting. The figure looms tall in place, head covered with a thick unditernable mass, maybe hair, maybe something else, however the way the light plays with the small bits and curls makes it seem like it would be the latter. Its stature is that of a gangly, almost skeletal person, if you could even call it that yet. In any context, this would raise alarm, but its sheer position, and the posture it remains holding cannot be that of a simple human.  
“Is it...singing?” Robin's quiet tone flows above the mist, into the others' thoughts like a soft shake of the shoulder back into the reality of the situation, and pulling the group out of their quick, rather sudden shock.  
She is right, must be, for what else would even create such a sound other than a human. The sorrowful notes of an older man's vocals now are almost recognizable, however fear cannot help but grip at everyones thoughts like the thick fog around them.  
“LET'S GO SEE!” Luffy shouts, breaking the unseen tone. The singing, as they now have called it, ceases, which causes Usopp even more anxiety than when it was.

“Come on Usopp!” Luffy's smile really is incredible, for it seems to never leave his face, unlike Ussop’s. His face is the textbook definition of anxiety, honestly, his whole being could be labeled as so.

“No WAY am I clambering up s-some- OLD APARTMENT BUILDING, to go see the POSSIBLY DANGEROUS PERSON or THING on the fREAKING ROOF. IT'S ON THE ROOF LUFFY, WE ARE NOT CLIMBING THE RO-”

“Well somebody better hurry,” Robin speaks up, her authoritarian tone quieting Ussop’s yammering quickly. “Because he appears to have already begun climbing.”

As said, Luffy has already begun his ascent upward onto the buildings rooftop, using the old wooden boards, the bits of brick and slanted rubble to grapple onto like his monkey counterpart. Usopp would have been impressed if he wasn't already so fearful he may cause his own death by heart attack.

“You two, go with him. I'll stay here with the others.” Zoro gestures at two of the group, their heads perking up from the tone.   
Sanji begins already protesting, Nami standing behind the blonde man with her eyes shut tight, and hands already gripping the others black coat from the back with such force that it may rip the fabric.

“No way, moss head! You can’t make us-”

“Either you go with him, or I go with Nami.”

“Come on Nami, we have to, stupid moss-head’s orders.” Sanji quickly glances at the young woman, who is still holding fast onto him, her hands beginning to tremble.

“WHY ME.” 

“Because you two have known him for a while longer then the other three, now GO BEFORE HE DOES SOMETHING STUPID!”   
Following Zoro's sadly true words with no amount of vigor, the two begin clambering after the mostly childish man they call captain. His leadership however cannot ever be questioned, for it seems to work; like life simply gave the boy a stream of luck that never fails, and never fails the companions around him. Luffy’s greatest luck however seems to always be in his choice of crew, if they know it or not. They may think of themselves as lucky, however even Zoro cannot fathom the care the man has for his group, his namaka. His family. A lucky group indeed.

Luffy can feel the change of the material, the change of the stone on his hands. Calloused fingertips grasp finally at the final barrier, the parapet. It is clearly worn due to the weathering of being in such a place as this crumbling roof top, however it now is even harder to grasp due to being wet from the humid fog’s influence. However these barriers of this building may be, the determined monkey finally swings his lean body over the side of the wet parapet, falling down the small drop, of a few inches, to the wet, cold rooftop.

“Luffy, WAIT- We can’t keep up with you!!.” Nami knows her words are fruitless the moment they leave her mouth, however any attempt to stop the boy is still just that; an attempt.

Sanji is too busy and too tired to even try to change the pig-headed boy's mind. Living on the Sunny makes anyone realize early on that Luffy's ears are clearly not always open, and neither are some of his other senses, but one that is always there, like a shining star, is the boy's determination.   
Nothing seems to be able to stop Luffy when he has his, sometimes working, mind on something, and that determination has never been broken before, which leaves the shouting as more of a sense of comfort for the other two rather than an actual attempt at regrouping.

Sanji reaches the top first, his grunting, followed by a soft thud indicates this. Nami, realizing this glances up, but the blonde is not able to be viewed due to his position on the roof. Anxiety is already creeping its way into the woman, if she would ever admit it or not. Sometimes she wonders how she even got roped into this but, in the end, she wouldn’t ever honestly change it.

The lack of help over the last piece of stone and onto the flat rooftop comes as another anxiety inducing thought for the ginger, for once wishing to hear the blonde man's head-splitting coos and annoying attempts at courtship.   
But there is none.  
“Huph!” Landing on her stomach, Nami quickly regains her footing, gaining a kneeling posture. Eyes adjusting, there she spots the two missing members of the group, both motionless, both facing forward. Following their gaze, Nami’s eyes too begin to see what caused their shock; the figure at the end of the rooftop. The one that was becoming closer and closer every second their eyes were stuck on it, and their feet were frozen in place. The one that came from the mist itself.


	3. I Believe Your Trembling, Luffy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luffy was not scared, smh

“I WASN'T SCARED!”   
Brook’s seemingly unbreakable concentration is soon shattered by the loud-mouth roommate beside him, still hanging off the couch like some kind of strange primate.  
“Well, do not blame me for thinking you were when you clearly were not thrilled to see me, mouths all agape, knees trembling. You would have thought I was the devil himself by the looks of you!!”  
“NUH-UH Nami and Sanji may have been scared of you but I always thought you were cool!”  
“Well, thank you Luffy,” Brook said, tone that of an elder, with the incredulous claims of a child. Out comes Luffy’s shihishi-ing, a blithe noise that seemed to always get a smile from his company, including Brook who could feel the corners of his mouth begin to twitch into a smile, one that showed the same as the first time Luffy himself saw it.


	4. How Did We Gain You? (Continuation)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The part 2 of the Thriller Bark meeting!

For each step taken by the figure, one more disturbing thing seems to be thrown into the light by it. Nami’s hands would have flown to either man beside her, or even her pockets to find any sort of weapon, however this was nothing her body could process at this moment. Her mouth, dry, tries speaking, making any sound at the incoming man, his figure seemingly shifting, augmenting in front of her very eyes with each step. The only sound produced is a small whimper, eyes widening as the gaunt arm of the person is suddenly, and without any warning drawn to his head, with a peculiar briskness to it. Everyone's eyes stay glued to the appendage, the moonlight sickly displaying the figure like that of a corpse on a stage, in the full spotlight of the show. It almost seemed like these members were sighting something that they were not to be, the grim presence of it being as unnerving as this situation could be.  
As sudden as the movement was, the next thing that happened was somehow even more dispiriting for the group, being so abrupt, and seemingly wrong, that it caused an audible gasp from the group as a whole.  
It spoke.  
“My goodness, good evening to you all! Yohohoho!~”  
“...it can talk-”  
“IT CAN TALK!” Cutting Nami off, Luffy's demeanor changes like that of a lightbulb, lighting up its warm glow around the chilling moonlit mist. Sanij however is still bristled, head upright, and eyes straight ahead. Nami remains behind the two men, hands together, grasped in visible, trembling fear. Letting out a small squeak, she grabs onto the closest man’s back, clinging onto Sanji as a human shield from the stranger. This seems to neither affect Sanji, nor deter the man from his possibly dubious, however jubiolatios ways. This action to Nami tells her all she needs to know about the level of this threat to them, however his looks alone should be a warning.  
The man again tips his small hat, black and worn in appearance. His smile widens, if even possible, for his grin was already unsettlingly stretched across his worn-out face, making his wrinkles look even more pronounced. His teeth, bonely white, stand out against his clothing choices, which seem to only be of different shades of blacks, and deep worn grays. This remains truthful until you reach the man's neck, where an oddly shaped, rich blue cravat lays, seemingly holding the man's head on properly to the rest of his strangely formed body. It is a wonder he is alive at all, his gaunt appearance a cause for concern under any circumstance. Along the length of any of the man's limbs, even though it is concealed by the dark cloth of his suit, the jutting bones show. This causes a twang of some kind of emotion to be sparked in Nami, now wondering if this man is in need of more dire things then their souls, if this is a vengeful spirit as Ussop had thought. Her mind remains racing, all the while the man continues his disturbingly cheerful jests.  
“THAT GHOST HAS AN AFRO, AND CAN TALK! A SINGING, AFRO WEARING GHOST!!! THAT'S SO COOL!” Luffy again bursts out, pointing and speaking so thrilled that it honestly even caught the man off guard, who takes a small step back. To Sanji’s horror, the man just smiles, laughing the ghost comment off like this was the normal reaction he received if any, which honestly, seems about right considering looks. His gaze soon falls to Sanji, instead of Luffy, then finally to Nami. She still remains cowering behind Sanji, however her mind is now much more open to this man not being as monstrously evil as first thought.  
“Oh goodness!” The man begins, taking a few steps forward towards the group, his limbs moving almost like how a puppet would; lanky, and gaunt, how they even function is beyond anyone's knowledge of physics. “My, what a beautiful young woman you are!!”  
“Wha?- NONONOno!-” Her hands fly to her own defence, visibility trembling. “Not me!-”  
“I’ve..always been all eyes, for ladies such as yourself...well, I would be if I had the eyes that could see them! YOHOHOHOHO!~” The booming laugh echoes across the fog that remains somewhat present, however all the movement has seemed to clear its smothering grasp for now. Sanji remains frozen, not out of fear but simply out of bewildering confusion of what to think of such a man. Nami however begins taking a few steps back, trying her best to avoid any contact with the flirtatious stranger. His comment causes her eyes to glance up at his own, which are nowhere to be seen behind thick black-tainted lenses. This just causes her guard to spike straight back up to a full barrier, her hands shaking even more vigorously.  
The man continues getting closer, stopping once to tighten his shining cravat, and shine his shoes using a small handkerchief from his coat pocket. He soon however stops, standing a few feet away from the party, staring now simply deadpan. His voice finally breaks the short silence.

“Would you mind showing me your panties.”  
The minute the words registered through her mind, all of her fear, and panic shifted to that of anger. With one swift, and concentrated movement, a rage filled kick practically shatters the left side of the man's skull. Yelping, he reels back, falling over with a mind-numbing headache. Now, laying across the ground, with one hand over his head, the man rolls over to his side. He simply pushes himself back up, his smile soon returning as the pain is set aside for now, for more pressing matters are clearly present.  
“WOAH, NAMI KICKED A GHOST!! Wait- DO GHOSTS POOP??”  
Before any objection to the sheer stupidity of the question can be made from Sanji, the man springs back up to life like a corpse from the grave, causing Nami to jump.  
“Oh yes, I poop.”  
“HEY DON'T BOTHER ANSWERING THAT- WE HAVE MORE PRESSING QUESTIONS!!” Sanji’s tone catches the man's attention fully, Luffy even turning in his direction.  
“FIRST OF ALL, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU, SECOND, WHY ARE YOU HERE AND THIRD OF ALL-”  
“Wait, I got it.” Luffy interrupts, face showing a sudden composure, his grin now just a simple welcoming smile. Sanji, questioning but not daring to interrupt his captain, takes a step back as Luffy begins walking straight up to the stranger. Their heights, compared, are almost comical, however at the moment for the two members of Luffy’s crew, this is another reason to be on guard.  
“You.” Luffy begins, brows furrowing in a look of alarming determination, and grin widening to reflect that.  
“Join our crew.”  
The question hangs on the air for a moment, before the quiet response is given;  
“Okay.”  
The sheer weight at the time of such a statement was hardly known by any of the members of this momentary grouping, nor did they think of it. Nami’s face, along with Sanji’s contorts to that of the fear, spreads along into anger.

“WHAT!?”


	5. How Are There Tears For You?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brook, remembering a bit more, cannot help but begin to feel the growing of a pain he has not been visiting for quite some time

“And it’s been our history ever since, hasn’t it?”  
Brooks' soft tone brings the two men back to the present gently, Luffy's eyes snapping back to him in attention.   
“Mhm!”   
Before Brook can even get in a sip of his tea, another question is thrown at him, causing another stir of emotional memories within the older man;  
“Brook, do you ever..miss your old friends?”

The only sound that could follow was that of the teacup bumping onto the fabric of the woven coaster, and an audible inhale from Brook. His eyes fall onto the tea itself, watching the dark flakes of the shards of leaves circle from the sudden movement of his hand, swirling about like his own clouded mind. Those little pieces of a past he..had almost forgotten, almost hidden like how someone would cover their arms with a warm, comforting sweater-sleeve, to avoid seeing what had been done. What..he had done-

“Brook?”

“Oh- Yes, I’m sorry, just- I’m thinking. I haven’t thought of them in a long time, Luffy, I’ve been so..distracted..”  
Pausing again, Brooks hands shakily take the cup, fingertips feeling the change of warmth, spreading across his hands. He is suddenly so aware of those wrinkles across his hand, mapping onto his fingers, and joints...covering him. It’s like life finally caught up. He..is suddenly aware of his age.

Had it really been 50 years ago?

It’s like a blur into another life’s field. A spark of fire that was seen, and burned as bright as you thought it ever could however its light is long gone.

You hardly ever realize how fast time goes until you see that your starting line is too far gone to ever come back. A similar feeling is the realization you cannot ever go back to that picture perfect moment you couldn’t capture. The image you wish you could visit for its warmth, yet it remains in your mind a clouded glass shard.  
That however is just a part of having the mind to feel.  
You cannot capture lightning in a bottle, however you can remember its electrifying emotions it brought you.  
Just like you can remember a smile, but sometimes- you cannot remember his face.

Brook’s eyes shift back onto his tea, the hands holding it again being just as withered as he had left them this morning. Wrinkles that just reiterate the fact that his concept of time cannot ever begin to catch up.

He suddenly realizes the question is still hanging, no longer unaware of Luffy’s gaze on his own, which remains loosely on his hands, however mostly on the worn memory of them.  
Him.

Luffy may have Brooks' heart wrapped in a warm golden thread, which holds onto it like that of a tree and its branching roots. However the formation, the shards that hold it together are not his alone. No.  
The kintsukuroi that has kept the old man's heart intact is the oldest bond we as humans have, and the one Brook cannot ever remove, for he risks shattering; namaka. Love, bonding and everything that accompanies that word is what makes up the stitching that the Rumbar Pirates used to create the man who sits before the straw hatted boy.  
That band- was a family. Everyone knew everyone, every note was a part of a whole. Every musical beat was that of a heart, and every heartbeat with their love for it.

A sudden twinge of a forgotten emotion unexpectedly racks Brook, his heart beating with the sudden feeling; grief, and regret. That horrid sickly feeling of what you did. What he did. What he has done.  
Guilt.  
That thing has begun budding into an awakened flower, the crocus with its painful petals of seeping poison that are rooted deep within the gold, a seed that was once watered and fueled by the tears of a husk, now bloom from a withered state. The blossoming emotion stems itself deeper, the pang of the past beginning to seep into the cracks being reopened by this remembrance.  
The remembrance of what he has done, and what had happened those 50 years ago.  
The memory of a hundred men’s smiles, painted red with the deep hues of the soiled blood in their veins.  
Suddenly, one of these, almost husks, a smiling crimson, one that has burned itself into the heart, and even the soul of Brook begins again. The only sound in this vast open space being that heart, one once shared, now veined and poisoned.  
The void itself, accompanied now by the sounds of the men who blame this on Brook, the sounds of men who never came home, and could not even repent. Men who were ended so soon, however never seem to leave the mind of Brook.  
The void opens its mouth, but only the tears come out.  
The tears of a skeleton. A husk. Hardly a man anymore.

“BROOK.”

Forceful hands suddenly latch themselves onto the motionless man’s shoulders, the sheer force pushing Brook almost to his side, spilling the now lukewarm tea onto the carpet. The fabric begins immediately greedily soaking it in, leaving a deep stain and a few flakes in its wake. Beside the intact tea cup, lay the old man's glasses, thrown off in Luffy’s sudden ambush, and now exposing something not even Luffy has seen in full before; the clouded eyes of Humming Brook.  
Those dark eyes suddenly unclench, opening to stare back into the even darker eyes of the man in front of him. His hands, trembling, don’t move from their position, grasping onto Brook’s tensed shoulders. The only thing between them now being the breath of two emotions, however both fall into the same note of fear.

“Brook.” Luffy’s tone resonates a rare seriousness that most of his questions and queries never seem to do, or at least, never to such a note as this. 

Brook however has never felt his mouth so dry, as if the salt of the sea in his reflections and faded memories had swallowed the water back with its receding, yet ever present sorrow. Bone dry.  
The salt may however be in his eyes, for the cascade across his face seems to have come from nowhere at all, a sudden rainfall of tears that run down the man's gaunt face, and down his many creases and wrinkles like a river, ending into the void. The eyes that continue to run remain locked however on Luffy. The deep brown has long since been clouded by cataracts, almost like a reflection of his own mind, and reflection.

After the ticking minutes, the trickling of tears, and the seconds counted by each drop seem to cease, the unwavering silence is broken by a croaking tone.  
“Luffy,” The man begins, his mouth timidly moving as if scared of what he may say. His eyes remain on the other, and the connection is unwavered.  
“I miss them every day.”

“Luffy…” Brook’s eyes sting from the impulse to release another wave of emotionally charged tears, yet somehow, they dam.  
“I miss them, Luffy.”

As if a spark had been lit inside the boy, the grip of his hands no longer are present on Brook’s now slumped shoulders. In place, lengthy arms are thrown across his back, tightly holding the old man in a powerful embrace to his chest. Brook’s head now lay right next to Luffy’s head, his captain's shoulder a place now exposed in a knowing proposition for him. The old musician, for once in his life cannot express his emotion in any form of tune, or note of vocal spark. Holding back, in a weak form, however expected of such a sudden rush of nightmares and fears, Brook cannot help it.  
He simply cries.

“Brook, you will never have to miss me...because I’m your namaka! And I’m never going to leave.”  
Luffy explains in a sudden determined declaration, Brook’s soft sniffling now beginning to cease.  
He doesn’t respond, just giving a small shift of his head as some sort of nod of confirmation, but either way, Luffy knows Brook knows his words are with meaning. And with that meaning, and determination, lies a promise.


	6. How Did I Get So Lucky?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ending of a song.

Luffy cannot help but watch the man’s face as he plays. That determination is a familiar thing the boy has seen, however never has he seen such a weight of wrinkles, like an old memory that the sea had washed up. But in those creases is a soul that beats as strong, if not more so than everyone in this room.  
That soul is what drove Luffy to even be here with him, the strings of a soul that play in such a melody that people seem to find him to just hear it. He sure does bring a group together. As does Luffy.

The man pauses, small black lenses mirroring Luffy’s upside down face back at him as he looks up. He continues playing however, the party around them never ceasing.

“Luffy-San?”

Luffy raises his head up a bit, the glasses reflecting the change. Eyes locked, Luffy giving an eyebrow raise.

“Hm?”

“Does the offer to join your crew still stand?”

A smile melts into the boy’s face, beaming like the sun itself onto the clouded mind of the old man. Brook cannot help but smile too at the sudden inviting expression, knowing already what is in store simply by the melody of the strawhat’s emotions.

“Welcome to the crew, Brook.”

┕━━━━━━━ .⋅ ♫ ⋅. ━━━━━━━┙


End file.
